


when i say forever, it's the goddamn truth

by fio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 20:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13621353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fio/pseuds/fio
Summary: Keith doesn't like the Garrison uniform. But that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun with it as he tries to distract himself from the days counting down until the Kerberos launch and the pilot it's taking away from him.





	when i say forever, it's the goddamn truth

**Author's Note:**

> found this in my drafts from a year ago that started as just straight up smut for the prompt 'uniform kink,' managed to add a few thousand words of angst and now it's ready haha. decided to post before season 5 airs and (hopefully!) shows us what really happened between them back at the garrison.

Keith doesn't like the uniform. It's not a fashion thing despite Shiro's teasing, it's just uncomfortable to wear and he doesn't particularly care about what it represents. He got dropped off at the garrison once he was too old to stay in foster care and he's only stuck around because he managed to find something to be good at and someone who actually gives a shit about him.

It's also irritatingly difficult to get in and out of the damn thing quick enough on the rare day he and Shiro can meet up between their classes and Shiro's new meetings. Keith's happy for him and proud of him getting chosen for a professional mission, but it just makes things so _inconvenient_.

Today's twenty-minute meet up finds them in an old office that's either been forgotten or recently cleaned because there's nothing but an empty bookshelf and a worn-down chair in a corner. They've left the lights off, too frantic to touch each other to bother finding the light switch, but they do remember to lock the door at least.

"Shiro," Keith gasps, struggling with Shiro's jacket button as Shiro kisses down his neck.

Shiro hums into Keith's skin, his hands going straight for Keith's belt and slacks. His knuckles bump against the tent in Keith's pants as he rushes to get them open, making Keith groan and rock his hips forward, wanting to feel more, which just ends up bumping Shiro's fingers away before he can get the zipper undone.

"Hey," Shiro whispers with a laugh, using his knee between Keith's legs to press him harder against the wall, "You're making this go slower."

Keith grunts unhappily. "It's been days already, I don't wanna wait anymore."

Shiro laughs again as he pulls his face away from Keith's neck, greeting Keith's frown with a cheeky smile. "If you don't want us to get stuck with a mess in our pants, you'll have to at least wait a minute," he says before leaning forward and swallowing Keith's disgruntled sigh with a kiss.

It fixes Keith's mood pretty quick though, the irritation in him losing easily to the slow, wonderful press of Shiro's lips and slide of his tongue against Keith's own. His hands give up on undoing Shiro's jacket, arms wrapping around his shoulders instead and hanging on as Shiro finally gets his pants open. The hot touch of Shiro's big hand over the bulge of his underwear makes his whole body jerk and his head drops back against the wall, breaking their mouths apart.

"Fuck, Shiro, fuck," Keith hisses, which makes Shiro laugh again.

"Is that an instruction or a statement?"

"Both," Keith says quickly, leaning back in to bite teasingly at Shiro's mouth. Shiro chases his lips when he tries to pull away again and Keith smiles, letting himself be caught in another kiss. He knows how much Shiro loves to indulge in kisses, and if they had the time Keith would be more than happy to sit here making out, sloppy and eager and giddy, for as long as they wanted.

But they don't have that kind of time and he's hard and desperate to come so he breaks the kiss and gasps, "Please, Shiro, hurry."

Shiro's hands move again, this time undoing his own belt quickly, and he kisses along Keith's jaw as he gets his zipper and pants finally open. Keith whimpers with relief into Shiro's ear at the warm touch of Shiro's hand around their cocks, pulling them out from their underwear and stroking around them both with a slow, tight grip. But just as he starts to get his fingers moving, thumb rubbing against the head of Keith's cock and making his whole body shiver, the dreaded, familiar ring of his phone goes off and his hand comes to a stop.

"No, no no no, keep going," Keith begs, but he knows it's no use.

"Sorry," Shiro says, knocking his forehead against Keith's with a sigh.

Keith isn't upset with him, frustrated though he is, because he knows it's not Shiro's choice to be this busy. He drops his arms back down to his sides as Shiro reaches for his phone and answers, apologizing to whichever officer on the other end is chewing him out for not being immediately available for whatever meeting he needs to be at now. Keith's eyes glance at Shiro's flagging dick hanging half out of his boxers and considers sucking it into his mouth, keeping Shiro here with him until he comes, but he knows Shiro would get reprimanded for being late or missing one of the important briefings and Keith doesn't want to get him punished. He can't stop himself from being a _little_ bratty though as he pulls at the collar of Shiro's uniform so he can bite and suck at the skin of his neck.

Shiro startles but carries on with his conversation over the phone, giving Keith a knowing look. He can't get in trouble for having a hickey but the attention he'd get for one would still be a pain. Keith ignores the look as he drops back and tucks himself back into his pants, because he didn't leave any marks no matter how much he'd like to.

"Yes, sir, I'll be right there," Shiro says before hanging up. Keith has tucked him back into his underwear and is finishing up buckling his belt for him when Shiro slides the phone back into his pocket. "They scheduled a new briefing. Sorry."

"You said that already."

"I mean it."

Keith looks up from Shiro's belt and sees that he really does. "Can I see you later?"

"Of course," Shiro says, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Keith closes his eyes and sucks in a breath, because he's still hard even if he's forced his dick back into his pants and it's a struggle to keep his hands from grabbing Shiro and refusing to let go. Shiro pulls away and turns on the light, looking over himself to make sure he doesn't look like a guy who just got pulled away from hooking up with his boyfriend. "I'll message you when I'm done tonight, if it's not too late you can swing by my dorm."

"Yes, sir," Keith says, teasing a little. Shiro's admitted to Keith that the new officer uniform makes him self-conscious, since people look at him less like a fellow student and more like an instructor with it on even though he hasn't graduated yet and still takes classes just like the rest of them. But the bright blush spreading across his face as he clears his throat is something Keith hadn't expected.

"Right. Uh. Later, Keith," he says quickly, opening the door and leaving Keith alone.

Grimacing down at his erection, Keith considers his options. He knows the odds of Shiro getting done for the day and still having time to see him are slim to none since this has been happening for weeks now. So he can go to the rest of his classes and wait in his dorm until he gets an apologetic text from Shiro long past curfew, or he can just sneak straight to Shiro's room and wait for him there to at least get a few more minutes with him.

It's not a very hard to choice to make as Keith adjusts his pants and starts the walk to Shiro's dorm room.

Getting _into_ Shiro's room is easy. He's had the door code memorized for ages. The tricky part is getting there without someone noticing him and dragging his ass to a superior's office for skipping, but by being careful he manages to get across the Garrison without being spotted or reported this time. He slips inside quickly once he gets to Shiro's dorm and heads right for the bed first, stretching across it like a cat as he inhales the comforting, familiar scent of the sheets.

His erection had waned on the trip over but he feels his cock getting hard again inside his pants. He grinds down against the mattress a few times but it's unsatisfying this way, especially after feeling Shiro's hands on him earlier, however brief. With a grunt, he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling.

"This sucks already," he says to himself in the dark room. "And soon he's going to be gone for a year."

A miserable weight starts to settle on his chest at the impending doom that comes with admitting Shiro will be leaving him. Keith's life has only recently settled into being not shitty in big part thanks to Shiro. He hasn't said anything about it, because this opportunity is so huge for Shiro, but Keith's fear that things will go back to how they were when he didn't have anyone grows heavier in the pit of his stomach every day that Shiro can't spare any time for him. If it was just about the sex, Keith wouldn't be worried. He can find other willing boys without too much hassle.

But he doesn't _want_ anyone else.

Keith jerks upwards, sitting up and shaking his head roughly to try and force the thoughts from his head. It doesn't work, so he looks around, needing something to distract himself with.

Shiro's room is cleaner than most of the dorms Keith has seen, including his own, but he still has his own type of mess. His desk is covered in notebooks and loose pages that Keith knows are covered from front to back with coordinates of stars, galaxies, and other celestial bodies he's found interesting for some reason or another. Even in his free time Shiro likes to read about the stars. It makes Keith a little jealous, that Shiro has something he loves so much, but Shiro is always trying to help Keith find what interests him. So far all he can come up with is that he likes Shiro, which just makes Shiro laugh bashfully whenever he says it.

Keith bites down on his smile at those memories and looks away from the desk. The closet on the far side of the room has dirty clothes balled up on the floor inside it, a few shirt sleeves peeking out from behind the door that's not fully closed and Keith spots one that's familiar. Getting off the bed to go grab it, Keith pulls the door the rest of the way open and picks Shiro's cadet uniform jacket out of the pile. Holding it out in front of him, it doesn't look any different from his own, but Shiro has always filled it out so much better. Keith's fingers rub at the material for a moment before he brings it to his face and breathes against it. It smells like the garrison training rooms and Shiro's favorite soap, and something about that makes Keith's chest squeeze and his fingers tingle.

A quick glance at the time tells him he has hours before Shiro is likely to get back. May as well find a fun way to pass the time.

He strips out of his own uniform jacket and throws it onto the bed before fitting his arms through Shiro's. The shoulders are too wide for him and the sleeves hang over his hands but he feels wonderfully warm and comfortable as he wraps the lapels over his chest. Looking down, it covers some of his thighs too and he smirks, thinking of the face Shiro would make if he finds Keith naked except for his uniform top. He undoes his belt and drops his slacks to the floor but keeps his underwear on for now, not wanting to sit around in his bare ass until he's certain Shiro will be back soon.

Keith breathes in the comforting scent of the collar as he wanders over to Shiro's desk and sits down in his seat, spinning around in it a few times. When he stops, he grabs one of the few books that has nothing to do with math and physics because he's sick and tired of numbers. Piloting classes so often involve remembering speeds and trajectories, and Keith can't get any of the professors to understand he doesn't read the numbers when he pilots. He understands what they're for but he doesn't need the exact data to judge what he needs to do.

Remembering his frustration with his teachers and how he won't have Shiro around to mitigate soon just makes him sag in the desk chair, blowing at his bangs to get them out of his eyes.

"What if I just ask him not to go?" he wonders aloud, then closes his eyes and smacks the book he'd grabbed against his forehead. "I can't do that." But his heart jumps at the idea and the confidence he feels that Shiro would consider it if he did before slipping back into guilt, knowing how much it means to Shiro that he got chosen. 

After that, Keith forces himself not to think about it and reads the book he'd grabbed instead. Though not a textbook it's still predictably non-fiction, about the possibility of alien life beyond the solar system, and Keith makes a mental note to tease Shiro about no flirting with aliens while he's out there. It's interesting and keeps his attention and by the time he's read through most of it, he glances at the clock and realizes it's been a few hours, but Shiro still hasn't come back.

Keith gets up to stretch his legs for a few minutes before flopping down on the bed again. He tries to finish the last few chapters of the book but can't concentrate on it now, his eyes constantly drifting to the clock and hoping it's jumped forward more than five minutes at a time. Eventually he gives up in favor of just watching the clock, but the boredom of waiting ends up lulling him to sleep, curled up in the comfort of Shiro's jacket and blankets.

Some time later, a soft touch to his face makes him jerk awake. The room is dim except for the light peeking in from beneath the door, the sun long settled beyond the horizon and unable to reach the windows, but he can see the shape of Shiro sitting on the bed beside him clear as day.

"Shiro," he smiles, then looks to the clock. It's nearly midnight. "How long have you been back?"

"I just got here."

Keith frowns and settles his head back against the pillow. Shiro's hand moves to his neck, his thumb stroking softly against Keith's jaw.

"They shouldn't keep you this late."

Shiro shrugs and Keith wants him to stop pretending to be fine all the time and vent to him like he sometimes does, but after a moment he realizes Shiro is distracted and not really listening. He's looking at Keith with hooded eyes, his thumb still moving over Keith's skin. Shiro hasn't tried to convince him to go back to his room despite it being after curfew either. Keith glances down at his own chest and sees the blankets have been kicked off, revealing how little he's wearing aside from Shiro's old uniform jacket. His bare legs are stretched out along the bed, and suddenly he gets an idea.

Keith makes a show of rearranging his legs, dragging his toes lightly against Shiro's back as his knees pull up towards his chest before slowly spreading them across Shiro's lap. Shiro's hand on Keith's neck stops and his eyes turn downwards at the new arrangement. Keith feels his belly flip and his breathing grow shallow when both of Shiro's hands wind over his calves and warm fingers squeeze gently around his skin. Shiro's gaze drags upwards, stopping where his own uniform hides what Keith may or may not be wearing underneath.

He'd never gotten around to pulling his boxers off and he's a bit disappointed he can't surprise Shiro with that. But the feeling of Shiro's palms slowly sliding up his thighs until they reach the material of his underwear and pull, stripping him carefully, blows away every thought except _touch me, touch me more._

"Shiro," he whispers, desperate to share it.

"Yeah, baby?" Shiro asks, his fingernails dragging lightly over his legs. Keith's cock is already starting to harden, peeking out from beneath the uniform top as Shiro gets his boxers around his ankles then drops them carelessly on the floor.

" _Please_."

Shiro moves at his wish, his hands on Keith's thighs holding Keith flush against his lap as he climbs onto the bed. Keith whines at the hard press of Shiro's crotch against his balls until Shiro settles on his knees and leans over him to give him a hard kiss that starts out slow, but turns frenzied soon after. One of Shiro's hands slides up Keith's side, beneath the jacket and the undershirt he's still wearing it, before slipping around to his back and pulling him closer against Shiro's chest. Their hips rock together, Keith's legs splayed out on either side of Shiro's lap. Keith can feel the growing erection trapped inside Shiro's slacks and the heat and hardness of it pushes him closer to the orgasm he's been desperate for all day.

Keith wants to ask Shiro if he needs to slow down and get his pants undone to avoid making a mess, but he can't make himself do it because he doesn't want to wait another second. He revels in the weight of Shiro's body pressing down against him and the impatience of his movements matching Keith's own, moaning against Shiro's tongue as he sucks around it until he can't kiss back anymore, all he can do is breathe against Shiro's cheek. The muscles in his body pull taut and his hands on Shiro's arms clench hard into the material of his jacket, warning him that he's about to come. Shiro drops his mouth to Keith's neck before giving his hips one hard, slow roll down against Keith's crotch that finally makes the coil snap and his vision go white.

The orgasm he's been waiting for all day finally slams through him like he's just crashed down hard against the Earth, all of the wind knocked out of his lungs, but it's pleasure instead of pain that shoots through him everywhere. He can't breathe for a few seconds, and then it feels like he sucks in all the air of the room all at once. His lungs feel so full and his head so light but he can still tell when Shiro starts to pull back and his loosened limbs tighten up again to keep him from moving.

"In me—" he tries to demand, but his lungs still aren't working yet. He drops one of his hands to his dick, feeling the wetness of his own come—he's still too out of it to notice or feel bad for getting it all over the inside of Shiro's uniform—before sliding it down to his ass and rubbing a finger over his hole. "I need it," he says, his voice trembling a bit, "I need you."

"I'll give it to you," Shiro promises, kissing him slowly. Keith's clinging makes it hard for him to shift but Shiro pushes them up the bed just enough so he can reach the dresser behind it, grabbing something off the top and gently pressing it against Keith's fingers where they're still digging into his sleeves. "Take this," he says and Keith reluctantly lets go of him to take it, knowing what it is. Shiro's hands pull away from Keith's skin and leave him feeling cold despite the warmth still buzzing through him after his orgasm. But he can't complain, because Shiro is finally undoing his belt and opening up his pants to pull out his cock while Keith spreads the lube across his fingers.

He reaches immediately for Shiro, wrapping his wet palm around Shiro's dick and squeezing. Shiro's hands fall to the bed and squeeze into the sheets as he lets Keith touch him and Keith watches his face, loving the slow way his eyes fall closed and he sucks in a breath when Keith's thumb brushes under the head of his dick.

"Keith," Shiro whispers, pushing his hips forward into Keith's fist until he hits the skin of Keith's thigh, "Hurry."

"C'mon," Keith hisses, leading the tip to his hole, not understanding. Keith's the one who wants _him_ to hurry. But Shiro just laughs as his eyes open again and he looks down at Keith with amusement.

"You have to use the lube first," Shiro points out and Keith rolls his eyes.

"It's fine, I don't need it," Keith says, trying to press Shiro into him anyway but Shiro takes him by the wrist and pulls his hand away.

"Give it to me then," he says, and Keith hands it over with a quiet, "Yes, sir," that makes Shiro nearly drop it. Keith's eyebrows shoot up and then he starts to smile, watching Shiro focus very intently on the bottle he's struggling to open.

"Need some help with that, _sir_?" Keith asks just as Shiro gets the cap open, his hand clenching around it in surprise and squirting fat dollops of lube all over Keith's crotch, the cold wetness of it making Keith gasp and shudder.

Shiro stares down at him as he starts to blush, hard enough that Keith can tell even in the dim light. "Keith, uh, w-what—"

"You like it, right?"

Keith grins when Shiro doesn't deny it. Instead, Shiro clears his throat and asks, "Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not. Just respecting the uniform," Keith says, his eyes dragging down Shiro's chest and then up again. Keith's smile widens at the way Shiro's mouth drops open a bit and he takes the bottle from Shiro's hand, tossing it onto the floor somewhere. "I think we have enough now," he points out, and Shiro's quiet inhale and look of anticipation makes him chuckle before adding, " _sir_."

Keith grabs Shiro gently by the wrist and leads his hand to the mess between his legs. His hips arch upwards, pushing up against Shiro's palm as he spreads it through the lube and brings his coated fingers to Keith's hole. Keith can barely keep from squirming at the anticipation of feeling Shiro spreading him open, his thighs squeezing around either side of Shiro's waist until Shiro has to press one of them down against the bed with his free hand.

"C'mon, baby, be patient," Shiro whispers, but Keith can tell he's just as impatient from the hurried way he fumbles to get his fingers inside Keith and his hips push closer to rub his cock against the inside of Keith's thigh. Keith would tease him for it, but the pads of Shiro's fingers rub hard over his prostate and leave him seeing stars and gasping for breath and he forgets all about everything that isn't the surging waves of pleasure building up in him again. Keith reaches blindly for Shiro, hands grabbing at him and tugging until he takes the hint and leans down so they can kiss. As Shiro fingers him open, Keith moans and gasps against his mouth, nearly biting down on Shiro's bottom lip when he feels three digits all push up inside him at once.

"Okay, okay, okay," Keith chants, his hands shaking where they've grabbed on to Shiro's face, "I'm ready."

"Yeah you are," Shiro agrees, kissing his cheek and down his neck. He tests how far he can open Keith up one last time before pulling his fingers free. He hesitates for a moment, holding himself still and breathing against Keith's skin as he debates with himself quietly, and then makes his decision with a grunt as he lifts Keith by the ass to hold him steady and press his cock inside him.

Keith gasps with relief even though Shiro's barely pushed in more than the tip, thrilled to feel something more satisfying than fingers. Shiro laughs into Keith's neck at something but doesn't stop and Keith sighs happily the deeper he sinks until his hips bump against Keith's ass. Shiro lowers Keith back down onto the bed and settles over him so they both can lie still for a moment, though Keith takes the chance to wrap his legs around Shiro's back to keep him in place.

Shiro laughs again and Keith uses his hands to lift Shiro's face up. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking I probably should've gotten undressed first. You've got on my spare uniform so I don't have anything to wear tomorrow when this gets messy. "

Keith feels a little sympathy because dealing with laundry in the dorm is a pain in the ass, but he's too pleased to keep the smile off his face. "You noticed."

"Hard not to," Shiro says. His hands slide up Keith's sides and beneath his undershirt, tickling at his warm skin. "You look so good in yours, but in _this_..." He doesn't finish the thought, but his eyes grow hungry as he glances down Keith's chest and Keith can feel with the way his cock jerks inside him. It's clear he thinks Keith looks pretty damn good in this one, too. "... It was easy to spot this one didn't fit you right."

"I like how this one fits," Keith says, but his eyes drop down to stare at their bellies when he says it, the smile falling off his face. _I wish I could keep it_ , he doesn't say, because he doesn't want to think about needing a token to take Shiro's place while he's gone.

Shiro hums and drops his head down for a kiss and Keith kisses him back greedily, his neglected erection jumping against his stomach with interest. At the slow drag of Shiro's tongue against his own, Keith feels his muscles squeeze and Shiro moans into his mouth, his hips jerking forward hard into Keith's tight heat.

"Keith," he hisses, trying to keep from moving so suddenly again. Keith just nods his permission, unable to speak, and kisses him again as Shiro's hips start to move in a slow rhythm. His hands slide away from Shiro's face to find the shaven fuzz of his undercut and tickle his fingers with it. They breathe in sync as Shiro moves inside him, inhaling sharply together when he presses in deep and sighing the air back out when he pulls away.

It's comforting, it's delicious, it's all the amazing things sex and closeness always are with Shiro. But Keith's chest is heavy with more than just the gentle press of Shiro's body on top of him and he can't do much besides hold on tight, his cheek pressed to Shiro's and his eyes squeezed shut. He tries to shut the thoughts out because it hasn't happened yet, _he's still here_ , but they don't stop and his throat is tight and sore with growing fear as his belly fills with dread.

He won't have this soon. Hell, it feels like he barely has it now.

"Hey. Keith, hey," Shiro is saying, and Keith blinks his eyes open in confusion. He's been so caught up in his own head he hasn't been paying attention and he's not sure how long Shiro has been calling his name. Shiro isn't moving anymore, looking down at Keith with concern. "You okay? Need to stop?"

"No," Keith says, louder and more forceful than he means to, and it makes Shiro look more worried.

"Then what's wrong?"

Keith wants to say it's nothing, but he knows Shiro won't believe him. He frowns at Shiro's chest, his annoyance at the unfamiliar grey uniform making his own chest squeeze unpleasantly tight, and then reaches for the jacket's button to start undoing it. "Take this off."

Shiro looks down and watches Keith's hands move. "Is this about what I said about getting it messy? I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. I don't mind doing my laundry in the morning, hey, it's fine," he tries to reassure. But Keith doesn't say anything, pushing at Shiro's shoulders until he's sitting up, bringing Keith up with him still seated tight onto his lap, and Keith rushes to tug the uniform off his shoulders.

Keith doesn't want to look at it anymore. He doesn't want to think about Shiro the pilot, the hero, destined for the stars. He wants the Shiro who drools when he sleeps and whines in Keith's lap if he misses mac and cheese day in the cafeteria. He wants _his_ Shiro, and he doesn't want to let him go.

Shiro finally starts to cooperate and helps Keith pull the jacket the rest of the way off his arms, followed by his undershirt. After they both get tossed to the floor, Shiro starts to push Keith off of his lap so he can get his slacks and underwear off too, but Keith grabs hold of him and slips his arms beneath Shiro's to wrap around his back. With his face buried in Shiro's neck, Keith sinks further back down onto Shiro's cock and squeezes with everything he has.

"Woah, okay," Shiro says with a laugh. But his fingers dig into the skin of Keith's thighs to keep him in place as Shiro pushes up into him eagerly, his intent earnest and clear. "This better?"

Keith nods against his skin. "I'll go wash your uniforms. It's my fault."

"Hey," Shiro says, and this time he doesn't let Keith ignore him. As he shifts his legs so he's no longer sitting on his knees, he pulls at Keith's shoulders until he's leaned back far enough to meet Shiro's eyes. "Nothing's your fault," he says, followed by a kiss. "I'm the one who thought about it then decided I couldn't wait the thirty seconds it'd take to get undressed."

Keith accepts the kisses Shiro continues to press around his face, but his mood doesn't change for the better. He knows Shiro notices too, but he tries to move his hips down against Shiro's lap and get them both focused on the sex again instead of his worries and his misery. Shiro lets him, even helps guide him, his hands sliding up to Keith's waist to set the pace and pull him down as he thrusts upwards. But then one hand moves further, up Keith's back and over his neck until his fingers are running gently through Keith's hair.

"I love you," Shiro says, whispering it against Keith's ear. It makes Keith swear and his muscles snap taut. He drops his head down against Shiro's shoulder and squeezes his arms tighter around Shiro's back as he starts to rock his hips faster and more desperate.

"Me, too," Keith gasps when Shiro's fingers brush against his neck. "Fuck, Shiro, I need you," he says, because he's too afraid to use the word _love_ , but he reveals something just as scary without thinking.

" _Keith_."

It's the last thing either of them manage to say as coherent thought gives way to mindless need and the room fills with the sound of their rapid breathing. The material of Shiro's slacks starts to burn against Keith's naked skin but he can't stop riding down on Shiro's cock, the coil in his belly pulled tight again and desperate to snap. Shiro's grip tightens where he's holding on to Keith as he fucks up into him and Keith moans the faster he moves, his dick bumping between their bellies and aching for a real touch.

He ends up not needing it.

Shiro lifts Keith off his lap with a sudden heave, drops him down onto his back against the mattress, then follows after him with a hard thrust to fuck back inside him and the coil snaps. Keith comes with a startled shout as Shiro's cock pushes into him in the new, wonderful angle, and his limbs, now sprawled out across the sheets, spasm and kick like he's falling through the air and not sure when he'll hit the ground. With his hands on Keith's waist, Shiro doesn't stop fucking him through his orgasm until he hits his own, gasping for air as he pumps his hips and fills Keith up. When he gets his breath back all Keith can say is Shiro's name over and over as he grabs for whatever part of Shiro he can reach, finding his thighs.

His arms feel light and numb with pins and needles shooting through him everywhere so he can't tell how hard he's digging his fingers into Shiro's skin until Shiro hisses, "Ow, ow, ow, baby, ow."

"Sorry," Keith says, forcing his hands to relax.

Shiro hums and collapses on top of him, one hand on Keith's thigh that squeezes every few moments as the last of his orgasm floods through him, and the other finding its way back into Keith's hair. He nuzzles his face into Keith's hair too as his breathing slows down, and Keith takes the chance to slip his arms around Shiro's back and hold him in place. He's careful not to squeeze with his fingers this time.

"I should be saying sorry," Shiro says after a while, his voice muffled. Keith frowns up at the ceiling and slides his calf lazily against Shiro's where their legs are tangled together.

"For what?"

"Skipped getting a condom, too."

Keith hadn't really thought about it to notice, but hearing Shiro point it out makes his insides squeeze, checking to see if it's true. Shiro grunts and jerks forward with a sharp thrust at the sensation and pushes a startled moan out of Keith. After a few moments of quiet surprise, Keith starts to laugh, and soon Shiro can't help but laugh, too, both of them shaking all over with it.

"I don't mind," Keith says when he can speak again. He presses a kiss behind Shiro's ear and whispers, "I like that you couldn't wait to fuck me. _Sir_."

Keith feels Shiro's whole body go stiff, his back muscles suddenly pulling tight beneath Keith's hands and his fingers squeezing hard over Keith's skin and in his hair. Shiro's cock had slowly been going soft inside him but Keith can already feel it fattening up again. Keith gasps, a wave of new pleasure rolling through him and making his hips move against Shiro until Shiro uses his grip on Keith's thigh to pin him down and keep him still.

Shiro pushes himself up on one elbow very slowly to look Keith in the face. "Okay, now I'm not sure if it's you or me who gets off on that more."

"I get off on you getting off on it," Keith says before he lifts his head to catch Shiro's lips with his. Shiro returns the kiss, pressing Keith back into the bed. They kiss slowly as Shiro lifts his hips, finally slipping his cock from Keith's hole, making Keith whine at the loss of it. "Shiro—" he starts, not wanting to stop, especially when both of them are already hard again, but he remembers the time and how long Shiro's day has been and he brings his hands to Shiro's shoulders. "Wait, Shiro," he says between kisses, wanting to tell Shiro it's okay if he wants to sleep instead. But he doesn't realize why Shiro pulled out until suddenly they're rolling over and Keith ends up on top of him with their bellies pressed together.

"Ride me," Shiro says, smiling up at Keith as he grabs for his pillow to help prop his head up.

"You aren't tired?" Keith asks even though he's already sitting up to pull Shiro's pants and underwear down his legs so they won't chafe his ass anymore. "I was going to tell you it's fine if you want to go to bed."

"Too tired to do much of the work, but not too tired to let you do it."

Keith smiles back once Shiro helps him kick off the last of his clothes and he finds Shiro's cock with his hand to sit down over it. His eyes fall closed and his mouth drops open once he's seated against Shiro's lap, humming when Shiro's hands slide up his thighs. They move higher and grab hold of the uniform jacket to tug on it gently.

"I've changed my mind."

"Hm?" Keith tones, focused on grinding down slowly with his hands splayed out on Shiro's belly for balance. He's already come twice now so the urgency is gone and he just wants to continue all night, riding Shiro until the sun comes up.

"I think this fits you perfectly," Shiro says, even though the sleeves are too long and Keith barely fills out the shoulders. "Or maybe it's just because of how good you look from this angle."

Keith peeks an eye open at that and sees Shiro grinning up at him, looking cheeky. Keith sticks his tongue out at him. "It still looks better on you."

"Hm." Shiro's looking thoughtful now as his head tilts against the pillow. Keith drops his eyes to his cock where it rubs against Shiro's stomach with every movement of his hips. He tries to ignore the solemn mood threatening to take over, but he has a feeling it's too late. "I should take a picture of you like this," Shiro says, his tone playful, like he doesn't notice at all, but Keith feels his belly seize, a cold heaviness settling where warm pleasure had been.

He doesn't want to say it, but he can't stop himself from wondering, "To bring with you when you leave?"

"I don't know, they have to approve everything I bring onboard and I don't want to let anyone else see this, even just a photograph," Shiro says, laughing softly. But he's noticed Keith's melancholy now, his hands back on Keith's skin moving in comforting strokes. "Hey. Baby, look at me."

Keith is slow to meet Shiro's eyes and when he does, his hips come to a stop. Shiro is still hard inside him but he doesn't start moving, leaving it to Keith to keep whatever pace he feels like setting.

"It'll feel long, but it's just one year," he says, looking up at Keith softly. His hands pause at the top of Keith's thighs to squeeze gently before dragging back down to his knees. He's waiting for Keith to say something but Keith isn't sure he can speak without begging Shiro to stay, and he knows he can't do that. But he's quiet and still for too long and Shiro's face starts to fall in a way that makes Keith's chest ache with something worse than loneliness. "But you don't have to wait for me. Keith, if you—"

"Don't," Keith whispers, dropping down to press their chests together. Too big for him, Shiro's uniform jacket drapes down on either side of them like a blanket as he slides his hands under the pillow beneath Shiro's head and hides his face against Shiro's neck. "I'll wait, as long as it takes, I'll wait forever, I'll—"

Shiro doesn't let him finish, lifting Keith's chin up with a hand and kissing him hard. He whispers Keith's name against his lips and his fingers still on Keith's thigh grip him tight now, his hips jerking upwards in brief, restrained thrusts. Shiro's not pushing or hurrying Keith to move, but he can't hide the sudden, desperate need where he's still pressed inside Keith. Without sitting up, Keith starts to roll his hips down around Shiro's cock but keeps it slow. He doesn't want to go so fast that they can't kiss anymore, hungry for each one like it may be their last.

Keith tries to tell himself to stop thinking like that, but it's hard. It's hard when everyone else who's ever been around him always leaves and never comes back. He _wants_ to believe Shiro is different, and in a way he is, but that's just as scary. He'll be a celebrity, a national hero, the first pilot to take a manned ship all the way to Kerberos and back and then he won't be just Keith's anymore. He'll be the world's, and what is Keith compared to the world?

Just some guy with good simulator scores. Forgettable and easily tossed aside like he's always been.

But Shiro's hand is moving up into his hair as they continue to kiss, his fingers curling behind Keith's ear and tickling him in the spot only he knows about, and Keith clings to that feeling. Shiro is still here and he's holding onto _Keith_ even though he could be with anyone he wanted.

Keith lets that touch pull him out of his thoughts as best it can, Shiro anchoring him here in the dark where it's just the two of them, before four and a half billion miles of space come between them.

Keith gasps against Shiro's mouth when he feels Shiro's fist wrap around his cock, surprised by it. He's gotten off twice without a hand on his dick and now he's oversensitive, keening and rhythm stuttering when Shiro starts to stroke him. Keith's fingers squeeze into the pillow and he shudders as his hips make one weak, jerky motion, trying both to fuck deeper into Shiro's grasp and get away from it.

"Let me," Shiro whispers as they finally stop kissing. Keith's lips are raw and red from it, hanging open even though he's trying not to moan and let them be overheard this late at night. "Let me make you come," Shiro pleads, and Keith does with one more stroke of Shiro's hand and a hard sob he has to bury against Shiro's neck. He can feel the wetness spilling over Shiro's fingers through the thin undershirt he's wearing where knuckles bump against his stomach. It's unpleasant, and he's too aware of it now and how it's bleeding through to the inside of Shiro's uniform, and it sends a spike of guilt through his stomach.

"Off, get it off," he mumbles, scrambling to sit up despite the shakiness of his arms as he pushes off of Shiro's chest. Shiro's hands fall away from him, thinking Keith meant _him_ , and Keith shakes his head as he tears the jacket off, the shirt following right after. He drops down again to kiss at Shiro's face, demanding between each one, "Don't you stop, don't you dare stop."

Whatever fatigue was keeping Shiro from doing much moving vanishes with both of them fully naked now. He surges upward, attacking Keith's bare chest with his mouth. Both of his hands move across Keith's back and hold him tightly in place, Shiro's tongue hungrily working over his nipples. The usual unspoken awareness to not make marks where the other cadets will see in the showers is forgotten, neither of them caring as Keith moans with a hand in Shiro's hair and the other clawing at his back.

If he can't keep Shiro here with him, Keith will take whatever he's willing to leave behind, even if the marks will disappear long before he comes back.

"Keith— Keith, I want to—"

Shiro's words are clipped, his voice thick with a want so heavy it makes pleasure thrill up Keith's spine almost as if he climaxed again right then.

"Anything, anything you need," Keith whispers, giving Shiro the permission he's always had.

He's lifted off Shiro's lap again and pressed down onto the sheets, belly down and legs spread. Shiro pushes back inside him without pause and Keith nearly shouts into the pillow, sharp pleasure shocking through him. He's too tired and spent to get hard again but Shiro's chest is tight against his back, one hand sliding beneath him to find his now stiff and sensitive nipple and thumb around it where his tongue had been just moments before. Keith quickly loses himself to how overwhelmingly surrounded and _filled_ he is by Shiro, and the voice he'd been holding in pushes out of him louder and louder, faster and faster to match Shiro's insistent, demanding pace.

"You feel so good, baby... You're so perfect, Keith, you have no idea," Shiro is saying. His mouth is hovering over Keith's ear, sometimes brushing up against the skin and into his hair as Keith bounces against the pillow with every sharp thrust.

Keith can hear the words but they barely register. His head is swimming, body too hot and fogged by pleasure to make out much except the feeling of Shiro's other hand finding his, threading their fingers together to grip the sheets. When Shiro's fingers squeeze and his hips start to stutter, coming undone, Keith sobs out Shiro's name and shakes all over as Shiro spills inside him. Even through the haze still swallowing him up, Keith's comforted and satisfied by the feeling of Shiro coming for him, because of him. Shiro's mouth drops exhausted but grateful kisses at the skin of Keith's neck, his shoulders, his ears, humming in reply to every low moan Keith makes when his hips pump forward with tiny aftershocks of his orgasm.

Eventually Shiro shifts off Keith's back just enough to not squish him uncomfortably as he rests on top of him, his softening cock slipping out to press against Keith's thighs. But Shiro leaves his hand where it's slipped between Keith's chest and the bed, holding him tight.

They don't move for a very long time.

Keith passes in and out of a shallow sleep as the sticky wetness of their come dries against their legs and bellies and Shiro breathes softly into his hair. His groggy thoughts swim with the things they'll need to take to the laundry room, both of Shiro's uniforms and all of his bedding smelling of sweat and sex, and how early they should head to the showers before too many others get there. He's comfortable despite all the mess, relaxed and soothed by Shiro's solid weight laying over him.

It's not until he notices the room starting to lighten, the growing brightness of the sky as the sun begins to rise and chase away the safety of the dark, that he fully wakes and he realizes time hadn't stopped while they laid together.

Another day has passed and a new one is here, bringing him closer to a bed—to an Earth—without Shiro in it.

Keith's dread—briefly, blissfully forgotten in the closeness and comfort of Shiro wrapped around him and inside him—resurges and nearly makes him retch from the force of his stomach churning. His heart is pounding and he starts to move, no longer satisfied with Shiro's weight against his back. He can't tell if Shiro is awake or not but when Keith pushes to be let up, Shiro grunts and rolls onto his side to let Keith free but he doesn't go anywhere, following Shiro onto his side so their chests are pressed together. After a moment, Shiro's arms snake their way around him again, and Keith can see in his face now that he's not fully conscious. Keith lifts his hands up to it, holding onto Shiro cheeks and breathing fast as he tries to find any part of it he hasn't committed to memory.

"Keith," Shiro mumbles. Keith feels his heart stop, then pound an even harder rhythm, and with his skin flush with Shiro's, he's sure Shiro can feel it. "... Baby?"

He's awake now, or getting there, squeezing his arms where he's caught Keith against his chest as the muscles of his legs tense and stretch out against the bed.

Keith pulls Shiro's face closer with shaking hands and Shiro lets him, meeting Keith's lips with a groggy morning kiss. They both have morning breath and their mouths move sloppily against each other, Keith unable to keep himself steady and Shiro not yet awake enough to do it for him, but it's a wondrous balm to the anxiety overwhelming him. It doesn't go away, but the longer they kiss as Shiro gradually wakes, the more tethered he starts to feel again.

"Keith," Shiro says again, clearer. The sleep is gone from his voice, replaced by warmth and a bit of sheepishness. "We should get clean."

And he's right. There's a lot coating their skin and the sheets that needs to get washed before Shiro has to be in all his daily meetings and simulation tests for the launch. Keith makes a noise of acknowledgment but makes no effort to move, rubbing their legs together and kissing at Shiro's chin. Shiro laughs, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and making Keith shiver when it vibrates against his skin.

"C'mon. We can get to the showers before anyone else if we get up now."

Shiro doesn't untangle from Keith to get up, instead gripping him tight and pulling him along as he rolls over and sits up on the side of the bed. Keith huffs a laugh, hooking his legs around Shiro's waist and letting himself be lifted when Shiro stands, Shiro's hands squeezing his naked ass affectionately.

"I would love to carry you out there like this," Shiro says, teasing against his ear, "but probably not a good idea."

Keith grumbles, pouting and sucking at the skin of Shiro's neck one last time before slowly dropping down onto his own two feet. Shiro leans down to kiss him again in apology, sneaking another squeeze of Keith's butt before picking their underwear up off the floor and handing Keith his boxers with a grin.

They don't run into anyone on their jog through the halls to the showers, which are empty just like they thought. It's not even five in the morning so it's not a surprise but they keep their hands mostly to themselves just in case, though the marks on their skin wouldn't make it hard to guess what they'd be doing beforehand, Keith thinks. There's a feeling of pride that makes him smirk as he watches Shiro scrub at his chest, the blemishes left by his mouth and his fingers dotting Shiro's shoulders. Shiro catches him staring and gives him a wink that makes his skin flush even more than the hot water.

But despite the easy, casual intimacy between them, there's an ache of loneliness in Keith's chest that only grows stronger as the morning goes on despite how close he is to Shiro, following him to the laundry and chatting with their heads tucked together like always. Rationally, Keith understands that a year isn't long and his promise to wait for Shiro's return is one he'll keep no matter what.

But the Kerberos launch is only weeks away and life for Shiro afterwards will never be the same. Keith doesn't know if he'll fit into it once he comes back. 

"Tired?" Keith asks as they toss the sheets back onto Shiro's bed. The sun is fully up now, the sky bright and blue outside the window and the hallway full of cadets shuffling around to get breakfast, and Keith is pretty sure they barely got three hours of sleep, if that.

"Feeling pretty refreshed, actually," Shiro says with a bashful smile. He's still in his boxers, his freshly laundered uniforms tossed over his desk chair. "Why, worried you kept me up too late?"

"A little," Keith admits.

"I always get my best sleep with you," Shiro reassures, kissing across Keith's cheek before moving to his desk. He has to clear his throat as he starts pulling on his slacks and quietly adds, "Even if it takes a while to get to the actual sleeping."

Keith laughs, the guilt in his chest easing a little. His own uniform had already been stripped off before Shiro returned, so it was mostly clean besides the undershirt he'd left on and didn't need to be washed. He pulls it on, slowly buttoning it up as Shiro finishes getting dressed.

"Hey, c'mere. I want to give you something."

When he looks up, Keith expects the usual calm assuredness Shiro has, the air around him that makes Keith want to do better if just to make him proud. He falters when he sees instead a real nervousness—not the bashfulness after making a joke he knows is cheesy or the cute shyness when they flirt, but something that looks alien on him. Shiro's eyes are down, focused on something in his hand, as his shoulders hunch forward, making him look small and young despite the grey uniform.

Keith's heart hammers, confused what Shiro would have to give that could make him so scared as he steps closer.

"I know you said you'd wait—"

"I will," Keith says, immediate, angry with himself for ever letting Shiro doubt it.

It makes Shiro chuckle, his back straightening as he reaches his hand out towards Keith. His eyes shine where they crinkle from his smile, the nerves fading just like that, like Keith's word is all he needed to be reassured. It makes Keith's chest warm, and he takes what's offered without looking away from Shiro's adoring smile.

"I've been thinking maybe it would help with the wait if you could get updates. From while we're out there."

That startles Keith, making him frown down at his hand. It's just a small piece of paper and he quickly unfolds it, revealing a sequence of letters and numbers.

"Matt has some special message technique he shares with his dad and his sister, which I don't know how to do. But I do know how to give you permissions to access the mission telemetry data." Keith slowly looks up, confused. Shiro hasn't stopped smiling at him. "That's a password to check the live feeds from the Kerberos missions. It won't be the vods, and I can't put in anything too personal, but instead of waiting for the data to get released to the public which is always delayed, you can hear about how boring the trip is as the ship sends our information back to Earth. And then you can hear about how boring the ice farming is. So you can keep an eye on me and all that until I get back."

Keith is all too familiar with rules and how little bending the Garrison is willing to do around them. For Shiro to have gotten him this, he either made one _hell_ of a persuasive argument, or the higher ups just don't know. It stuns him, his hand trembling around the piece of paper.

It's more than a token, like a uniform jacket or a photo or a hickey bound to fade. It's a connection, letting Shiro tell him about his every day in space as if they were side by side and not separated by billions and billions of miles of distance.

"Shit," he hisses, bowled over by it.

"I know it's nothing much—"

Keith doesn't let him finish, rushing forward and throwing his arms around Shiro's neck. It tugs Shiro off balance and he laughs as he bends over to keep them both from falling and wrap his arms around Keith's back.

"It'll make those logs a lot more fun to write, knowing you're reading," Shiro smiles into Keith's neck.

Keith can't form the words to thank him, just squeezes him tight until Shiro has to pull himself free. He does have a busy schedule after all.

The dread and the loneliness don't disappear, but they do get easier to swallow around and ignore even as the date of the launch approaches. They don't get to spend any more nights together after that, but Shiro brings Keith to the shuttle the day they take off, kissing him goodbye as they finish the tour.

"I'll see you in a year, Kogane," Shiro says, breathless against his lips.

"I'll be waiting, _sir_."

Shiro laughs, kissing him again.

And then he's gone, sailing across the stars.

Keith keeps his promise to wait as long as the logs keep coming. But four months into the Kerberos mission, they stop and something hits Keith that he hadn't been prepared for. The fear welling up in his belly before that had nearly hollowed him out had always been that when Shiro came back, he wouldn't have time or the space in his life for Keith.

_When_ he came back. But now it's a question of if and he doesn't know how to breathe the same anymore.

The Garrison makes no mention of it publically but Keith has read every log every day for the last four months, and he knows when they announce the Kerberos mission failed because of pilot error another month later that they're wrong, that they're lying. He can't prove it without admitting to having access to something he shouldn't, but he doesn't want to prove it to the liars or the rest of the world anyway. They didn't _know_ Shiro, and they don't care about him now that he's seemingly failed his mission, the world disowning him despite all he's given.

Keith's barely attended classes and gotten into so many fights with instructors since the logs stopped coming that it's a relief when he's dismissed and told to gather up his things. He sneaks into Shiro's room one last time and opens his closet, glaring furiously at the uniform left behind. The aching dread he'd managed to push down for months is back full force, but he can't stomach looking at the uniform he'd once longed for. Now it's just a reminder of the Garrison, liars and bastards who discarded Shiro the moment something went wrong. Keith _hates_ the uniform.

He tosses it aside and grabs instead some of Shiro's day clothes, one of the outfits he'd wear when they'd hit up the towns a few miles out. Keith inhales against the vest, the strong, familiar scent of Shiro still there, and has to bite back a sob.

They're the only things he takes, the only token he'll allow himself to keep.

Eight months alone in the desert, Keith doesn't grieve. He continues to check the telemetry logs even though he knows nothing new will come and he lets himself be lost. He's mapped the walls of his shack with photos and maps, dots he's not sure how to connect even though they're leading him towards something and he feels the pull of it. But knowing it's not Shiro or the answers he wants, he's slow to put them together. The night of the arrival foretold by the carvings and signs scattered through the desert, he goes after what lands just to make sure the Garrison can't keep whatever they find.

_It'll feel long, but it's just one year,_ Shiro had said. But Keith feels like he ages a decade finding Shiro strapped to a table and unconscious, scarred and so much older than when he last saw him, but _alive_.

Keith doesn't care about the three strangers who hitch a ride. They don't turn him in or try to take Shiro away, and when they get back to his hideout, they crash on the floor. Shiro takes the couch and Keith doesn't sleep, watching him to make sure he's still breathing.

When Shiro wakes, it's with a scream.

"You're okay! You're okay, no one's hurting you!" Keith tries to soothe.

He's shaking worse than Shiro, his hands held out but careful not to touch. He doesn't know if Shiro even recognizes him, a new kind of loneliness opening up inside him and threatening to swallow him whole when he realizes it. Shiro breathes heavily as he stares at Keith's face, his prosthetic hand squeezing around the back of the couch hard enough for Keith to hear the strain of something about to snap.

Suddenly it stops, his arms reaching forward and Keith doesn't hesitate, climbing onto the couch and letting Shiro pull him close against his chest. It's been a year since the last time he was held like this, and his tears are hot on Shiro's neck as he tries to remember how to breathe.

"Are you real?" Shiro whispers against his ear in shock. 

"As real as you," Keith hisses, his whole body aching with want to prove it. He lets Shiro hold onto him for hours, until both of them stop shaking and the sun rises outside the window.

Keith feels so foolish, looking back on it now. He'd been so worried about the world taking Shiro and leaving no room for him, but it was something else, something _worse_ that had stolen him away, leaving him with scars and trauma plain on his skin. He doesn't know what caused it, if Shiro even knows, if Shiro will tell him. But Keith kisses Shiro gently, on the scar carved across his face, in hopes that Shiro understands the promise in it.

Keith will wait forever, as long as it takes, until Shiro is ready to let him in again.

Once he's calmed, Shiro doesn't say anything more. Keith doesn't either, not used to being the one who needs to be steady between them. The vest left on the table beside where Keith had been sitting smells less like Shiro and more like Keith now, hugged to his chest like a security blanket for so long it may as well belong to him, but Shiro takes it anyway along with the rest of the clothes left out for him, changing before walking out into the morning light for some fresh air.

Keith lingers behind on the couch and lets Shiro have a moment to himself. He doesn't know what Shiro expects to hear or will want to ask but all Keith can offer when he joins him a little while later is the truth, or at least a fraction of it. He leaves out the loss and the misery and what they made him do, left behind on a planet without his tether, and he keeps it simple. A hand on a shoulder, and the relief filling him up keeping his voice steady for the first time in months.

"It's good to have you back."


End file.
